Come On in This House
by thecollegiatedork
Summary: After the events of Teach Me Tonight, Jess retreats further into himself as he tries to keep from falling apart. Luke must reach Jess again before his nephew goes down a path that Luke can't follow him down.
1. Chapter 1

Jess felt so impossibly tired and numb that when Luke told him that he was sending him back to his mother, all he could do was nod.

Luke left him alone again soon after that, parting with a gentle hand on Jess' shoulder saying that he'd be back at the diner.

Jess took another drag of his cigarette and watched the water shifting below the dock, his head crowded full of thoughts.

He had hurt Rory.

 _-flashback-_

 _Jess' palms were still damp from the tears he caught falling down Rory's cheek as she cradled her wrist to her chest in the aftermath, the sound of crushed metal creaking and hissing loud in his ears._

 _Rory had drew away from him unthinkingly at first, her blue eyes wary and fearful and tight with pain and Jess couldn't help but think,_ he caused this.

 _Though fleeting, the mistrust in her expression stuck in Jess' mind as he forced down the shock and numbness threatening to overtake his body because_ holy shit they were just in an accident _, and helped Rory out into the chilly night air._

 _As they sat on the sidewalk, waiting for paramedics to arrive, Jess filled silence between them with apologies._

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

 _Rory just offered him a watery smile. She raised her wounded wrist a few inches._

" _This? Proof that I can totally be an overseas correspondent."_

 _Jess didn't know whether to cry or laugh. Rory was sitting next to her wrecked car, clutching her injured wrist and_ she _was comforting_ him. _He lowered his gaze from her earnest expression, his chest tight. God, he was pathetic as fuck._

 _Seeing this, Rory sighed and tilted his face towards her with her unwounded hand, giving him no choice but to look at her._

" _You know I don't blame you, right?" Her blue, blue eyes searched his. "This wasn't your fault."_

 _Jess scoffed. "You wouldn't have been out tonight if it hadn't been for me."_

" _Come on, Jess, don't do this to yourself," Rory pleaded as he got up. The sound of sirens was closer now, and soon, Rory would be okay._

 _By the time the ambulance arrived, Jess was gone._

 _-end flashback-_

Jess' skin still burned from her touch.

Rory didn't understand. Jess ruined things, ruined people, and the sooner he left, the better. He stood up and ground out his cigarette.

The wreckage from earlier had been cleared away by the time Jess found himself in front of Luke's. Save for the glaring, blank space where the post and bench were supposed to be, it was almost as if nothing had happened at all.

When he reached the diner door, Jess paused. Everything inside had been just the way he and Rory had left it, except now, Luke was there, hunched over the table they had occupied earlier, weariness written in every inch of his frame.

Jess swallowed, unused to seeing Luke like this. He wanted his uncle to be mad, yell at him, do _something_ other than look so defeated.

Slowly, he forced himself to walk into the diner.

The sound of the little bell above the door brought Luke to his feet. A beat of unbearable silence stretched between them.

"So I guess I'll get to it then," Jess said at last.

"Right." Luke awkwardly hovered where he was. He waited a second before adding softly, "The last bus will be at eleven. I'll walk you there."

Jess just nodded. "Okay. Fine."

Packing was a haphazard affair. Jess took as much clothes out of drawers and books off of shelves as he could, hating and feeling foolish that he'd let himself feel comfortable enough to put his stuff there in the first place. Stars Hollow was always supposed to be temporary; it wasn't home and it certainly wouldn't be after everybody in town finds about what he had done to Rory.

It was these thoughts that provided Jess a second companion besides Luke as the two of them sat shivering at the bus stop a half hour later. As they waited, Jess pulled out another cigarette and glanced over at Luke. His uncle was facing mostly away from Jess, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared out into the night.

"Are you mad at me?" The question slipped out before Jess could help it. It sounded hideously soft and childish even to his own ears, but as soon as he said it, Jess was curious.

Luke's tired eyes slid over to Jess. He regarded Jess, his expression conflicted and troubled and almost _sad_ , before answering, "It wouldn't matter even if I was."

Before Jess could ask Luke what _that_ meant, the bus stop was suddenly flooded with a bright light as the bus' wheels crunched to a halt in front of them and the doors opened with a hiss.

Jess reluctantly put out his cigarette for the second time that night and swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Take care of yourself," Luke said, taking his cap off and fiddling with it. His uncle was never really good at things like these.

Jess wasn't either. "I will, thanks," he replied, looking at Luke one last time before climbing onto the bus.

Then, Stars Hollow was whisking past him; a few miles later it was gone completely.

* * *

Jess blearily opened his eyes as his neighborhood loomed large beyond the bus window he had been dozing lightly against for the past hour. The sky was barely beginning to lighten outside.

Stiffly, he made his way across the street to his old apartment complex, climbing the stairs until he reached the familiar door with faded gold numbers: _302._

After closing the door to his and his mother's apartment behind him, Jess turned and warily face the sight that awaited him.

Everything was dark, save for a single light bulb illuminating the kitchen counter and Liz, who sat at it, her fingers loosely curled around the neck of a bottle of whiskey. _Her third one_ , Jess noted, staring at the shards of glass in the sink.

"Goddammit, Jess," she slurred, pushing away from the counter and stumbling towards him. Liz's hazel eyes pierced Jess' dark brown ones, and suddenly, with a force far sharper than her current state of mind, she slapped him hard across the cheek.

"I was trying to do you a good thing," she whispered. "And you fucking ruined it. You ruined it! God! How much of a disappointment did you have to be for Luke, of all people, to ship you back?" Liz was screaming now, crying.

"Mom, you're drunk," Jess said as evenly as he could. Nevertheless, his voice still trembled. "Let's get you to bed." He set his bag down and carefully reached for Liz.

"Don't touch me," she spat, and tried to twist away from him. But Jess was used to this, muscle memory guiding his hands as he pried the whiskey away from Liz and supported her weight down the hall to her bedroom.

When Liz's snores filled the tiny apartment, Jess finally went to his room, exhausted. He collapsed on the bare mattress on the floor, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep and forget.

But sleep did not come to him that night, and as Jess soon found out, any night after.


	2. Chapter 2

Jess twisted underneath his thin blanket. His eyes felt like lead weights, but his mind was as busy as static.

Huffing in frustration, Jess flipped to lay on his back and his eyes slowly opened to stare at the water- stained ceiling. He didn't know how many days had passed since he came back.

It couldn't have been many, but after almost three nights of being unable to fling himself into the numb embrace of sleep, the days had started to blur. Nothing felt constant except the guilt that burned like fire inside of him, consuming what little peace Jess managed to find at odd hours like these.

Jess concentrated his gaze on the broken fan above him and halfheartedly began to count in his head. It was something he and Liz would do together when he was smaller and she still worried over little things like making sure he could sleep. Jess thought the task was monotonous as hell, but that was the point, he supposed.

One. _One fractured wrist_ , his mind whispered. Jess squeezed his eyes shut. He dug his fingers into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself. _Focus._

Two. _Two of them in that car_.

Jess tried to ignore the sound of his heart as it started to pound against his ribs, as if he were behind the wheel again, but now it was all he could hear.

His heart suddenly wasn't his heart, but a blue car, crashing incessantly like the ocean into the steel of his ribs. Beneath it all, Jess swore he heard the crunch of bone-Rory's bones.

Jess pushed himself upright. Distantly, he could hear himself gasping for breath as the darkness of the room seemed to press in on him.

A wave of nausea swept over Jess and before he knew it, he was stumbling into the bathroom connected to his room, collapsing onto his knees in front of the toilet in time to throw up what little he had managed to eat that morning.

Jess remained where he was until there was nothing left to give, until nothing but the ragged intake of his breaths as his body heaved in an effort to expel more, filled the stale silence.

Hot tears spilled involuntarily down Jess' cheeks, hitting the cold porcelain beneath his fingers, which then curled into fists.

Jess deserved this. For what he did to Rory, a little bit of sickness and lack of sleep was a price Jess would pay a hundred times over.

After a spell, Jess managed to peel himself away from the toilet to rest against the side of the tub. He felt empty, and exhausted, but at the same time... good? There was a numbness inside of him now that took the edge off his thoughts-a temporary shelter in the midst of a storm.

Jess rested his forehead on his bent knees as he sought to compose himself before facing the rest of the day. He had a moment of peace before he heard his alarm go off in his room, its shrill shriek cutting like a knife into the early morning quiet.

Jess groaned and pressed his forehead more firmly into his knees, as if making himself smaller would make him disappear altogether.

"Shut it off, Jess!" Liz shouted; the irritation in her sleep-heavy voice was clear, despite being on the other side of the apartment.

With a deep breath, Jess pushed himself onto his feet and stumbled back into his room, grasping in the semidarkness before finding the clock and switching off the alarm. Jess set it carefully on the floor before slowly laying back on his mattress, finding himself in the same position he'd been in earlier.

Weariness crashed over him, to the point where Jess was sure he could pass out if he tried, but his heart was picking up its anxious beat again, telling him to get up and do something before he could work himself into another nervous episode.

Upon his return, Jess had done his best to keep busy, determined to stay out of his head for as long as possible. He'd been restless, switching erratically between washing the dishes at three in the morning to smoking half a pack of cigarettes in a day to sorting through the bills that had piled up on the kitchen table in his absence.

Then Jess had gotten a job.

He liked working at the bookstore downtown-amidst the noise and crowds of the city, it almost felt like home. The thought of walking in to stacks of secondhand books, their pages crinkled and comforting, and thick encyclopedias was enough to get Jess reaching for a change of clothes before his second alarm went off.

Back in the bathroom, Jess started to go about his morning routine, keeping his gaze stubbornly on the sink to avoid looking into the mirror as he brushed his teeth.

He already knew he looked like crap, with his dark circles and the way his skin stretched over bones.

Jess spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth. He closed his eyes as he pressed a palmful of cold water to his face, relaxing slightly as it eased the headache that was starting to bloom in his skull.

Ten minutes later, Jess was at the door, struggling to pull on his shoes when the phone started to ring.

Without glancing at the caller ID, Jess plucked the phone from its cradle and crossed the living room to place it on the couch, throwing a pillow over it to muffle the sound.

He already knew who was calling.

Jess didn't understand why Luke took it upon himself to call almost every day when Jess already told his uncle he had gotten back to New York safely the first day.

It was only when Luke started asking about how Jess _felt_ and if he was _okay_ that Jess began to ignore the calls. Those were the kind of questions Rory should be given-not him.

Jess didn't need Luke pretending to give a crap about him, especially when he didn't deserve it.

He frowned as he shoved his feet into his worn sneakers and stepped out into the morning chill.

Besides, Jess thought, drawing his jacket a little closer to his body, he was fine.

* * *

 _Please leave a message after the tone._

Luke sighed as he hung up the phone. He knew Jess was there and probably annoyed with how often Luke wanted to check in on him, but since Jess had left, everything felt off.

It wasn't just accidentally setting two plates on the table for dinner or tripping over something Jess didn't have space to take with him and apologizing to an empty apartment.

That night, the expression in Jess' eyes-hollow and remorseful and _dead_ -had almost been enough for Luke to choke back his decision to send Jess back to Liz.

Almost.

Yet even as he said those words, Luke was sure he had made the right choice. Luke had failed Jess, over and over, and the events of that night had convinced him of that.

Luke didn't know how to parent, how to guide, how to be the person Jess had needed him to be.

Nevertheless, Jess' absence had hurt like a sore tooth. Luke found himself missing Jess' sarcastic quips and his rebellious tendencies, despite how many gray hairs they had managed to give Luke over a span of a few short months.

Luke understood that Jess could be rough around the edges, however deep down, he was just a kid-mischievous but kind. Sensitive, even. It was why that haunted expression Luke had found in Jess' eyes after the accident now followed him everywhere, no matter how many days had passed.

Luke knew that Jess didn't have healthy coping mechanisms, instead choosing to bottle everything up and let it eat away at him from the inside.

Luke had seen a shadow of this habit on their first Christmas, when Liz didn't call about Jess. Jess had brushed it off with his usual mask of indifference, but Luke had noticed how the music Jess blasted had been louder that week and how panic had broken across his face when he realized he had run out cigarettes.

Luke felt frustrated, having not been able to help Jess back then. But maybe... Luke glanced across the diner towards the door. Before he knew it, he was making his way towards it.

Luke paused, hesitating for just a second, before reaching up and flipping the "open" sign to "closed". His heart started to pound quickly as he practically sprinted up the stairs to grab a weekend bag.

Luke immediately began to cram random clothes and toiletries, almost afraid to pause for a moment lest he doubt himself.

Once he had packed in as much as he could, Luke finally let himself breathe. He glanced around at the apartment for one last time, his gaze lingering for just a second longer on Jess' empty bed, before swinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his keys.

 _I might not have been strong enough to help Jess then. Hell, I still might not be now. But…_

Luke grabbed a copy of a map of New York on his way out.

 _I can still try._

* * *

 **A/N: I honestly didn't think I would continue this, but I guess I am? Hope you all liked this one!**


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